


A Kiss to Break Down the Walls

by srmiller



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2018-01-02 16:10:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1058863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/srmiller/pseuds/srmiller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr prompt! When Felicity loses someone very close to her Oliver pushes her to grieve when all she wants is to be him, to lock away the pain and anger so she doesn't feel a thing, but Oliver refuses to let her become him and he can only think of one way to remind what it is to feel. But the kiss to bring her back to life changes him instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Kiss to Break Down the Walls

Oliver walked down the steps of the foundry and even though he knew Felicity could hear him she didn’t turn to greet him, didn’t acknowledge his arrival with a wave of her hand, instead she sat ram rod straight in her chair, her fingers moving over the keys with an almost robotic efficiency.

Moving to stand beside her he saw her face was a mask, painted with stone; a face he recognized from years of creating one for himself, of later staring at it in the mirror with morbid fascination.

It was painful to see her face, usually open and warm and bright, look so cold.

“Felicity.”

The name was a murmur, an entreaty, but she ignored it for the facts on the screen and left her emotions in the box she’d buried them in, “I’ve nearly cracked the firewall so we’ll get the answers we need soon enough to lead us to the whereabouts of the gang.”

Oliver reached out and covered his hand with hers, but she jerked it away, standing quickly to put distance between them, “No.”

He understood what she meant, and even though he knew she thought it best, experience told him otherwise.

“You can’t do this Felicity, you can’t bottle it up like this.”

“I can. I will.”

“You lost someone,” he whispered, not reaching out again though every nerve and cell in his body demanded to take hold of her, to protect, to comfort. “You need to grieve.”

There were defiant tears in her eyes as she crossed her arms as if to hold it all inside where she’d buried it, “No.”

Fear, fear for her manifested as anger and he felt his temper rise to the surface because Felicity, his Felicity, had always been the one to reach out to smooth away the rough edges, to bring the hidden emotions to the surface and then to calm the raging waves that followed.

And he felt useless and weak, unable to do for her what she had unknowingly done for years.

“Please,” he coaxed.

“No!” The tears were hot and burning down her cheek now, but when she wiped them away her eyes were clear and hard once again, “Can’t you let me be like you, just for a while? I don’t want to feel anything, nothing at all. It hurts too much!” Her voice broke and cracked with anger and grief and pain, “It’s too much!”

Her agony tore through him, and he wished there was a way he could fix this with a bow and arrow, with a threat or with his arm around her while they swung through the air.

He could save her from danger, but not from a broken heart.

And maybe it was just a cheap trick, a cop out, but he did the only thing he knew to do to break through the quickly building stone walls. Only one weapon he knew of could pound the rocks to dust.

Using his reflexes to his advantage he reached out and cupped her face, there was a quick flash of memory, of Felicity in a pink dress and a count with three arrows in his chest and a taxi to catch his fall.

But this was a different kind of saving.

Oliver closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against her, her lipstick having long worn off, so it was just soft skin beneath his.

In his arms she stiffened, but didn’t pull away and he could all but feel the inner battle as she fought for control and a façade of being strong.

Then her hand came up and gripped the leather of his jacket in her fist, she gasped against his lips and leaned against him, her will giving way to grief.

He pulled back, his eyes searching hers through the glasses perched on her nose, gently he took them off and set them on the desk.

“I know it hurts, but you can’t hide from it,” he finally answered, wiping away the tears now falling freely down her cheeks with the pads of his thumb.

He knew he was blurry to her, but still she searched his face and he saw something in hers which wasn’t grief or detachment.

And suddenly Felicity, beautiful, bright Felicity. His Felicity. She reached up to wrap her arms around his neck, putting her body flush against his as she rose to the balls of her feet to meet her lips to his.

She was reaching for life, for warmth; whatever barrier he’d broken through was crumbling and she was trying to hold on to anything to keep her head above water. And in thirty seconds she’d learned something he was still only beginning to grasp.

When pain tried to drag you under, only passion could be stronger than the heartache.

And he’d been drowning for years.

His arms wrapped around her, pulled her close and hard against him and let her warmth surround him as the angle of the kiss changed, deepened till he could taste her on his tongue.

There was pressure, there was heat, there was home.

And it melted away all the ice, the cold, the pain, until he was a raw humming nerve with his entire being focused on this singular sensation.

Of Felicity Smoak warm and willing in his arms.

There was a sound in her throat like a moan, a sound he felt in his chest and every fiber of his being till his entire being nearly screamed with the want of her.

How long had this building, this desperate need for? How long had he hidden it behind his own stone walls she was even now knocking down with her sincerity, with her passion, with all the things which made her unique. Which made her his.

Oliver pulled away, he didn’t know he had that kind of control in him, but managed to find a few inches of space and sanity to put between them as he looked down at eyes heavy with passion and lips swollen from his kiss.

“I can’t let you be me,” he told her, so softly it was almost a breath. “Even for a moment. I can’t ever let you do that to yourself. I’ll be here for you, Felicity, through everything that’s coming because I know what it’s like to watch someone you love take a risk for you. I know what it’s like to survive when you weren’t supposed to, but you can’t turn into a rock. You have to feel something.”

Her hands, having gripped his biceps for balance, let go of the leather to frame his face, and met his eyes with a swirl of emotion he’d hoped to never see in her eyes.

But there was a smile at the corner of her lips which gave him hope, “I felt that.”

**Author's Note:**

> [share on tumblr if you liked it!](http://awriterincowboyboots.tumblr.com/post/78871640387/a-kiss-to-break-down-the-walls)


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